


i remember all your fire

by iisburr



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Servant of Evil, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Misunderstandings, TAG UR LACTOSE INTOLERANT SAIHARA, dont make a 14 year old run a kingdom things will turn out bad, its really more of a kingdom au? call it what you please, ouma is dramatic and problematic but whats new, ouma is way 2 jealous, saihara has the worst day ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 14:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11186823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iisburr/pseuds/iisburr
Summary: It was an honor to serve.Amami never got tired of the silken purple curtains embroidering the large windows of the palace, or the pristine, alabaster throne that sat at the back of the throne room.If he did, he had managed to convince himself otherwise.---also known as: the fic where amami is just trying to do his job, while ouma is trying to start a revolution.





	i remember all your fire

**Author's Note:**

> do u kno how many times I had to look up “castle map” while doing this? also everything ouma wears is highkey based off of enstar’s outfits. have fun
> 
> also i refer to amami and ouma by their last names, but i refer to kaede by her first name,, it just rolls off the tongue better ig
> 
> special thanks to my friend Dan who basically beta-read this thing !! i hope you all enjoy !

It was an honor to serve.

Amami never got tired of the silken purple curtains embroidering the large windows of the palace, or the pristine alabaster throne that sat at the back of the throne room.

If he did, he had managed to convince himself otherwise. 

This castle, a gigantic thing that could house hundreds, was filled with every luxury possible in the continent— if not, every luxury in the world. However, no matter how many luscious furs were draped across the throne, no matter how many silver platters sat upon the amethyst tablecloth, no matter how glossy the floor of the great hall was, the palace was near empty. 

Kokichi Ouma, the prince Amami was supposed to serve his whole life, was a circumspect boy, but only when it regarded matters of keeping secrets safe. He only had around fifteen other people in his castle; a mix of dancers, cooks, maids, and butlers. Amami was the only true servant, a special person that stays by the prince’s side and does nothing else, following every command the prince gives. Amami felt special.

The palace was more of a port, to Amami. Traders came, traders went. Very few were allowed to live in the castle walls themselves. Ouma had appointed the people he trusted most to be his staff, and no one could complain. Ouma handled things decently well in the castle, and while his effervescent and spontaneous personality did get him into trouble, he always knew how to get himself out of it. Working in the castle didn’t feel like work at all, save for the prince’s occasional antics. (See: leaving a bucket of water on top of the door to spill upon anyone who entered.) No one betrayed Ouma, and Ouma betrayed no one. Amami never believed Ouma, his prince, was a cruel ruler. He knew he always wanted to do what was best for those he ruled, because it was his duty, and he was extraordinarily proud of it. Ouma was good at just about anything princely.

In other kingdoms, servants had to wear embarrassingly loose chitons and bands around their arms, declaring they belonged to someone. Ouma never believed in clothing his servants like so.

“If you serve me, you will dress like you’re a noble yourself! I’m not gonna make you look bad, Amami!” Amami recalls how Ouma whispered that to him when they were six. Amami had snuck into Ouma’s room in the palace late at night, admitting how scared he was. It was their last night as equals, as tomorrow Ouma would be crowned prince and Amami would watch in the audience, supporting his new prince with a smile on his face. Ouma’s words didn’t help much, he was more scared of doing a terrible job as a servant rather than wearing something silly. Ouma listened to him and tried to help, though, and maybe that’s the reason Amami never forgot their conversation. Amami remembered how small and unfit Ouma seemed upon the throne the next day. Ouma had gone from zero to one hundred in one night. Amami felt like shouting, because no, that little boy should be outside, playing in gardens and swimming in creeks, not becoming a prince, but as he saw how Ouma had smiled at him, tiny white teeth shining more than the violet jewels he wore around his neck and wrists, weighing him down, he knew that it would be okay. He knew he wouldn’t see Ouma for a while after that, because to be a servant fit for a prince, Amami would need extensive training first. If Ouma wasn’t scared, or at least didn’t appear that way, then Amami would have to be brave as well. 

When the carriage is taking him away and all he can do is watch Ouma’s tiny figure get smaller and smaller as he leaves the town, he reminds himself to be brave. He spends the next seven years of his life studying on how to be the perfect servant, and Ouma studies how to be the perfect prince. They’re away from each other for seven years until one day, out of the blue, Amami is ripped away from his books and china tea sets, and shoved into the same golden carriage once more. He knows where he’s headed before they even near the castle, and even though Ouma could be entirely different from when they first met, he feels excitement anyways. 

He remembers the words Ouma said to him nearly every morning while trying the white and black striped bow around his violet shirt collar. He always wore that, along with white pants and a black suit vest, finished off with black velvet loafers. He was dressed nicely, and sometimes he felt like a prince himself, sleeping on a soft bed every night and eating the palace chef’s amazing food. Ouma never broke his promises, and Amami didn’t plan on breaking his either. 

The luxurious part of his job wasn’t even what he looked forward to most, which seemed peculiar, but Amami Rantarou was no stranger to peculiar things. 

He enjoyed seeing garrulous Ouma every day, standing by his side and being treated like an equal, even though they were on _indubitably different_ social levels. 

He pushed open the large wooden doors leading into Ouma’s sleeping quarters, careful not to make much noise as to disturb the prince. A large circular bed was placed in the center of the room, and through the thin satin curtains covering the windows tiny trickles of light illuminated the room. 

“ _Rantarou_ ,” Ouma began, with no preamble, “ _It’s too sunny_.” Ouma’s purple locks of hair were already knotted and tangled from his sleep. He sat up groggily, rubbing at his eyes and putting a hand behind his neck to relax the muscles there. Amami didn’t question how Ouma immediately knew it was him; he was the only one who came in to wake Ouma up every morning.

“Too sunny, huh?” Amami mumbled. Since he had absolutely _no self-control_ , he stood by the window directly in front of Ouma’s bed and promptly opened the translucent curtains, smiling at the glowing beams of light that shined through. The castle was surrounded by lush greenery, flowers like roses and peonies lining the outskirts. Each flower was just like the others, same height, same symmetry. Amami didn’t like that, for some reason. It was like all the flowers were plastic, manufactured carbon-copies of one another.

“Fuck!” Ouma screeched, covering his eyes with an arm. Amami gleefully turned to face him, but was met with a pillow nearly sending him backwards. His vision blurred for a second. 

“I’ll throw another one if you don’t close the window this instant!” Ouma chortled. Amami laughed, straightening himself up, drawing the curtains and turning back to Ouma. 

“Of course, my prince.”

That was the way life was in the castle, and Amami wasn’t lying when he said he was content with that. 

Ouma hopped out of his bed and onto the plush fur rug peeking out from under it. The rug was a gift from another nation; another nation whose name Ouma and Amami could not remember, it was just another gift among the thousands. Lots of suitors and heirs to the throne would visit and sent gifts to Ouma’s kingdom, and all of them were turned down. No amount of salacious dancers wearing thin clothing or harps made of the purest gold could even persuade the young ruler to strike a deal with whomever they were from, much less _marry_ that person. Ouma wasn’t interested in marriage—at least, not yet. Amami was almost certain Ouma had his eye on someone.

“Amami, I’ve got a meeting today, so I need to dress kinda formal.” Ouma stated. Amami never actually dressed Ouma. He’d pick out the clothes Ouma should wear, Ouma would pick out the clothes he wanted to wear, and then the two would compromise somewhere in the middle. It was like a little game of theirs. 

Amami walked into the closet, looking through the racks to find what he had in mind. 

“Psst, hey, hey Rantarou!” Ouma shouted, failing to keep jovial excitement out of his voice. 

“What is it?” Amami asked, stepping out with a white blazer that didn’t button up all the way, complete with unnecessary amounts of squiggles of violet and gold embroidery along the edges. Ouma poked his head up from the chest he was digging in, smiling at Amami. 

“Look what I found!” Ouma announced, pulling a black and white checkered cape from the chest, a bit faded due to years of use. “It’s a miracle! I thought I lost this thing! I should wear it today!” Ouma looked back at him and smiled, showing off his luminescent teeth. Amami remembered how Ouma always had that cape with him; when they first met, when they became best friends, and when they got separated. It looked like Ouma hadn’t worn it since. 

_“Hey, Kokichi, I heard this really cool thing the other day!” Amami said, clasping his hands together thoughtfully and looking towards the shores of the cerulean ocean before them. The waves crashed upon the shore, and seagulls flew above their heads as salt flooded their senses._

_“Hmm? What is it?” Ouma asked him, fiddling with the fabric of the checkered cape they both sat on._

_“My mom told me that if you write a wish down on paper, and put it in a bottle, and put it in the ocean it’ll come true!”_

_“Really? You can wish for anything and it will work?” Ouma asked, eyes wide._

_“Anything you want!”_

_Ouma thought for a moment, putting his finger to his lips and looking towards the sea, and then smiled at Amami. “Let’s go wish for candy!” Ouma said, standing up and pulling Amami up with him by the hand. “I’ll race you back to my house!”_

Amami smiled to himself as he remembered the story, watching Ouma twirl in the mirror, checked cape adorning his shoulders and still somehow fitting just right, due to his tiny frame. 

They had spent that afternoon as children throwing pieces of parchment and paper out to the ocean, wishing for naïve things like sweets and money. Amami still has one of the pieces of paper, framed in his room. It says, “I hope we stay best friends forever!” in black ink. Most of it was in Ouma’s handwriting, while Amami had to write—or try to write—the bigger words. 

“I hate to say this, but is wearing that a good idea? It looks like it’s falling apart at the seams.” Amami pointed out. “Maybe it’s best if we have someone sew it just a bit. I can call in Toujou if you wish.” Ouma frowned, looking down at the cape in his hands. “Fine, just have it done before the meeting.” Amami gently took the cape from him, feeling the delicate fabric. 

The meeting was with the heir to the throne of a neighboring kingdom, Prince Saihara. While Ouma was only a prince, he did have more authority than usual, due to his ability to persuade others. He wasn’t old enough to become a king, but he ruled with the power of one. They were to be discussing trade negotiations, a matter so private Amami wasn’t even allowed to be in the room at the time. Ouma never permitted him to listen in on the meetings, just to make whomever was in them feel more secure, and then once they were finished Ouma would tell Amami _everything_. Even the most secretive of matters were shared so that the two could devise the best plan possible. Ouma didn’t tell whomever he was meeting with that a third party was to be involved, just to make sure Ouma got all the information he could out of a deal. Ouma did prefer doing things by himself, but whenever something tied back to the well-being of the people, Amami was involved.

Amami selected the rest of Ouma’s clothes; a black turtleneck to go underneath the blazer, along with black pants and an _outrageous_ amount of rings and necklaces. Ouma always complained about how heavy they were, but the jewels and gold work a powerful advantage when trying to show someone just how wealthy you are.

Amami then left Ouma in the castle to run to the market. Ouma thought the soda served at the castle was a joke, (It was more like wine, if anything.) and preferred getting it from a small booth on the edge of town.

_“These chefs are too caught up on being fancy! This is so much better than that sickly-sweet wine anyway!” Ouma declared, downing his 4th keg of soda._

_“If you’d like, I can have the castle purchase the stand for you, my prince.” Amami said, watching a small stream of the purple liquid drip onto Ouma’s scarf. Ouma had a special scarf he wore while drinking soda; it was called his “soda sponge” and he wore it like a medal. A medal stained in so many different colors, Amami had forgotten what the original color of it was._

_“No need for that, silly! It’s good for you to go outside sometimes. Besides, you always seem to smile when you talk to that blonde girl. It’s good you have friends!” Ouma stated, wiping his lips with his scarf._

_“Miss Kaede Akamatsu?” Amami inquired, cocking his head to the side._

_“So that’s her name…?” Ouma asked, putting a finger to his chin and then pointing it at Amami. “You have feelings for her… don’t you?” Ouma waggled his eyebrows._

_“It’s nothing like that!” Amami replied, with a frown, “She just runs the soda stand down there—it’s only natural we’d talk. Rumor has it that Prince Saihara is going to court her anyways.” Amami defended, quickly waving his hands in front of himself. “I can see why he’d like someone like her though. Sometimes she’d give me drinks for free whenever it was especially hot out. She’s a kindhearted person. She never knew the drinks were for you though.”_

_“Reeeeeeally? That’s good gossip! Arrange a meeting with Saihara at once. If I can get him to court her, then...” Ouma’s eyes sparkled, but his words carried no lilt to them, almost as if he was reading from a script. Amami found that weird._

_“Of course, my prince.”_

_“I guess I should get started on the marriage paperwork now, then. Bye Rantarou!” Ouma said, quickly getting up and opening the golden doors the led back inside the palace from the garden they were in. Amami got up to follow him, but the doors were locked in place once they had shut, and Amami was left to stand in the garden alone, since he forgot his key to unlock the door. Amami could hear Ouma running down the hallway at a fast pace. How would Saihara courting Kaede benefit Ouma? Amami just pushed it to the side, and figured he would just ask the ruler about it later._

_The more Amami thought about it, the more it seemed to make less sense._

_Ouma would much rather be covered in bees for the rest of his life than do boring marriage paperwork. Ouma must be confident in the fact he can make it work._

_With a sigh, Amami sat back down at the table, their table, and watched the sky._

\---

“Hey, Amami! Soda?” A voice calling out to him pulled him from his thoughts. He turned to see Kaede, a young girl, standing behind her usual soda stand. Amami knew Kaede lived in a kingdom ruled by prince Saihara, but she always sold her drinks here because she liked getting to meet new people. She was rumored to be an excellent piano player, but she didn’t have enough money to afford one of her own, so that’s why she worked.

“Sure! Sorry, I must’ve spaced out.” He admitted, receiving the bottle from Kaede. 

“Got a lot on your mind?” The girl asked, “You can tell me, you know.” Amami and Kaede were never really close, and although they had gone out for lunch together once or twice, they never really saw each other unless Amami went out to buy something. Townspeople led very different lives from those who lived in the castle. Amami lived in the town until he was seven, but he didn’t really remember much of it. Now, coming back almost every day, he learns something new about common life. 

He isn’t royalty. He shouldn’t be worthy of being at Ouma’s side and knowing what will happen to the world before it does. Amami just thinks he’s a lucky guy. If Ouma had befriended someone else when he was young, that person would be in Amami’s shoes. Amami had just happened to be at the right place at the right time.

“No, today’s just been… busy. Thank you!” Amami placed a few silver and gold coins on the table, and with that he was off, swept away by a wave of people in the busy marketplace. When he got back to the castle, there was very little time left until they had to welcome Saihara. Ouma downed his soda in record time, and ran around the castle squawking orders at people, followed by an apologetic Amami.

“Saihara is allergic to _dairy_! These croissants are made with _dairy_! Unbelievable!” Ouma stomped his foot and puffed out his cheeks. He was currently pacing around his bedchamber, rioting about a tray of croissants. 

Amami is sad to say this isn’t the first time Ouma has gotten upset over croissants.

“My prince, there will be a new batch in a few minutes. Please just ready yourself.” Amami tried to calm Ouma down, more importantly, get him ready for the meeting, but everything he was doing seemed to be failing. Ouma’s hair stuck lightly to his forehead in a nervous sweat, he had lost his blazer _God knows where_ , and, to top it all off, Ouma had forgotten what this meeting was supposed to be about _multiple times._

Ouma flopped face down on his pillow, and screamed into it. He then looked up from it and at Amami. “I saw something that made me angry, and now I’m raging. Why don’t you just take the rest of the night off?” Ouma sat up on his bed, and looked down into his lap as he mumbled, “Just go to that Akamatsu girl’s house or something...” Amami frowned. Ouma wasn’t one for talking about what was troubling him, so Amami decided it might just be best to leave for a bit and hope he’s calmed down by the time he gets back. “If that is what you wish, my prince.”

And with that, Amami left. 

\---

Amami figured it was best not to dwell on what could be upsetting Ouma. He could think of a million different reasons, but he’d never hit the nail on the head. He decided to leave the castle and just… _walk_. He was fond of doing things without thinking during them. Simply walking places to walk, and talking about things to talk. He didn’t care where he went or what he said, because he was glad to be doing those things in the first place. Being alive and surviving was a bit of a big deal to him, you could say. 

The village was bustling with life per usual, even though the clouds above showed signs of rain. People ran about, trying to get in the last of their errands before they were drenched. A few minutes later it did rain, and it didn’t take long for the streets to be cleared. And standing alone in the middle of a muddy road was a green haired boy dressed in the finest clothing in the whole world, silk and soft cotton and diamonds. Amami figured he must have looked like the village idiot, just standing out there and letting himself get washed away by the rain, but oh well. Amami walked further into town, seeing the flash of lightening followed by a crack of thunder. He looked up into the sky. It was so grey. 

Was Ouma seeing the same grey sky? He was probably in his meeting about now.

“Amami?! Hey!” Amami lowered his head and green eyes met purple. Kaede watched Amami, quizzically.

“…What are you doing?” She asked him, drops of water dripping off her damp hair and onto the cobblestone and mud below.

Amami smiled at her through the wet bangs that clung to his face. “Hmm? Oh, you know, just taking a walk. I was going to see you, actually.” Kaede hesitated for a moment, before she grabbed his arm, and Amami let himself be tugged along. Just go with the flow.

Amami soon found himself under a pile of blankets. Amami was never particularly fond of calling the middle class people “commoners”, since he was one of them at one point as well, but there was nothing else you could refer to them as. He remembered how he had met Ouma—Amami was just peasant gazing into the eyes of what was to become a powerful prince. His father had sold him to pay off his debts, simply put. There was no reason to be sad about that—Amami was extremely happy with where he was in life. It was a miracle he was where he stood today. He could be doing hard labor and eating scraps every day, but instead he woke up when the sun rose and lived as if he had no job, sauntering around the castle like he was royalty. Of course, Amami knew his position. He would never get cocky and boast about how he was “basically royalty,” because he wasn’t. He was a servant, he would never be nothing more, and that was perfectly alright with him. 

He didn’t want to lose what he had, though.

“Sorry I dragged you into my house, Amami.” Amami turned his head to see Kaede standing in the doorway. 

“It’s fine, but why?” Amami asked her as she set down a cup of tea on a wooden nightstand. “For starters, it’s freezing outside. You seemed almost… delusional, I guess.”

“Delusional? Hmm, maybe,” Amami thought about it for a moment, “I was thinking some crazy things earlier. I should be alright now, haha, sorry!” 

“Crazy things? Like what?” Kaede sat down near the foot of the bed Amami laid in. “Kaede, what would you do if you wanted to help someone. But you couldn’t? Ah, look at me, asking for advice. Sorry,” Amami said with a bitter chuckle. Kaede put a hand to her chin, thinking about it for a moment. Heartbeats ticked by. Amami looked around a bit more; the walls were entirely made of wood, and there were two beds in this room. The air smelled of cinnamon and the soda Kaede always sold every day at noon. A small candle lay on the windowsill above the bedside table. It was night already.

“You really love that boy, don’t you?” 

“…Huh?” Well, that was unexpected. Kaede’s face showed nothing but confusion, and she narrowed her purple eyes. “I just assumed you were talking about Prince Ouma.” Amami swallowed and nodded his head. “How much do you love him?” Kaede asked, “Sorry if that’s too personal or anything! I just wanna help you and I think it’d be good to start there.” The tea on the nightstand had stopped steaming. Amami smiled to himself; Kaede was like a mom. 

“We’ve known each other forever, I guess. I just really care about him,” Amami sighed, “My prince is someone I would gladly take a bullet for. Spending everyday with him is sort of a blessing. He’s a great person who’s never shown me anything but kindness. At times, he can be a bit spontaneous or obnoxious, but aren’t we all that way? Today he got mad for some reason I can’t figure out, and then he told me to leave, and now I’m here.” Rain rolled down the window, and the flame of the candle waved back and forth in an entrancing dance. “Is it normal to feel this way over something so small and insignificant?” Amami was never one for talking about his feelings, but he was tired and just wanted some answers.

When Amami looked back to Kaede she was smiling, cheeks a rosy shade of pink only highlighted from the amber candle light. “It sounds to me you’re in love with him.” Amami opened his mouth slightly and asked, “And what do you mean by that?”

“It’s not like you to be so concerned about something. Right now, you seem… scared. Love changes people,” Kaede said the last part of her sentence with a nostalgic expression gracing her features. Amami looked down to his lap, folding his hands and watching them twitch against the blankets. “…You might be right. I… I should go. Back to him. Thank you,” Amami stood from the bed and walked out of Kaede’s house, bidding her goodbye and forgetting about the now-cold tea and the extinguished candle on the windowsill. Amami took a deep breath and leaned against the door for just a moment. He really had fallen for Kokichi Ouma. 

Amami briefly remembered the reunion between Ouma and him on the walk/frantic run home. Seven years is a long time to go without seeing the one person who meant the most to you. Maybe Ouma didn’t feel that way, but Amami undoubtedly did. 

He remembers how Ouma had looked up from the paperwork he was glaring at—almost as if Ouma was trying to burn the paper with his mind—and how his narrow, decisive eyes widened and filled with hope.

“You’re back,” was all Ouma said to him. Amami had dreamt of this moment for _so many years_. He had thought of so many lines to say once he and Ouma found each other again. Like, ‘I’ve spent every day thinking about you,’ or, ‘I promise never to leave your side again’. Was that cheesy? Oh, who cares.

But all that came out of Amami’s mouth was, “Yeah, I’m back.”

\---

When Amami got back to the castle, out of breath and soaking wet from the rain which had now subsided, the lights were all off except for a faint glow emanating from the center of the foyer. Amami pulled a brass key that dangled on a necklace out from under his shirt, and unlocked the main door. 

Ouma wasn’t in the throne room though, but Toujou was. She seemed to straighten up once Amami came through the door. She rose from a small chair she had been sitting in and walked closer to Amami, holding a candle in one hand and a gun in the other. “You’ve been ordered to kill someone by the name of Kaede Akamatsu. I trust you will be finished with the job by dawn. Orders from the prince himself.” Toujou placed the small gun in his hand, golden handle shining in the dim light. With that, Toujou turned around and headed for a door leading to the armory. 

“What...?” Amami asked, eyes widened in horror. “Why does Ouma want her dead, specifically?!” Toujou sighed and turned back to face Amami. “Prince Ouma had only stated that the kingdom of Prince Saihara would be burnt to ashes, and every blonde woman residing there would perish as well—starting with Kaede Akamatsu. If I can give my thoughts, it looks like he’s planning on starting a revolt.” Amami watched Toujou turn around, the candle light dimming with each step she took until Amami was left in darkness.

He thought to himself, _this is all a dream. You’ll wake up._

But the clock still loudly ticked in the throne room, and the city started to burn, and Amami didn’t wake up.

His suspicions were confirmed; Ouma had fallen in love with someone else.

It wasn’t hard for Amami to put the pieces together. Ouma must’ve fallen for Prince Saihara and thought Kaede would be a nuisance to deal with. Kaede always admired prince Saihara, almost to a martyr level. It made perfect sense. Amami could never have Ouma anyway.

He tightened his grip on the revolver in his hand, took a deep breath, and stepped outside.

Nothing was engulfed in flames yet, thankfully, but whispers of something more spread through the air, and dark shadows ran from house to house, drawing lines of gasoline across the ground and tying loops around the village.

And as Amami is standing outside Kaede’s house and watching the world spin around him he fires a gun and hears Kaede rasp out, “This is for him, isn’t it?”

And Amami could only whisper an, “ _Anything for him_ ,” and walk away, eyes foggy and legs shaky.

\---

When Amami gets back to the castle, Ouma is there, looking into his eyes and showing him a kind smile. 

“Surely, you’ve seen what’s going on outside,” Ouma starts. Amami nods in understanding. “Why? Why did you make me kill Kaede? What did she do?” Amami spoke, steadying his voice. Rage was building up inside of him, and it was getting harder to maintain his calm appearance. 

Ouma’s eyes widened and his cheeks lost their usual bright flush. “…How did you—no, no no no no no. You weren’t supposed to—you were _never supposed to_ —” Amami sighed, the edges of his lips pulling down into a frown. 

“I did it because she was a secret terrorist plotting to kill me and destroy this kingdom! She’s a real monster.” Ouma lowered his voice to a whisper and then said, “ _I just wanted to keep you safe, Amami-chan…_ ” Amami looked at Ouma with scorn, causing the young ruler to jump a little. “I’m not in the mood for games. Please, just tell me the truth.” Amami crossed his arms.

Ouma started the waterworks, bringing his lips to a pout and making tears well up in his eyes. “What? That _is_ the truth and nothing but it! How dare you doubt your prince!” Amami sighed, _again_ , and said, “Why must you be so difficult? Just tell me. You’re not fooling me, so just _tell me why_.” Ouma was quiet for what felt like hours, and Amami just watched as he stared down at his shoes and cracked. “Because I’m a selfish person, alright?” 

Ouma looked up at Amami after he said this, and Amami saw a different side of Ouma. He seemed calmer, and more real, and Amami wondered why exactly his prince was just so weird.

“You had me kill Kaede so Saihara wouldn’t court her, right? So you could have Saihara all to yourself,” Amami asked, walking closer to Ouma. He knew it all along, and a much as he’d like to have Ouma all to himself, Ouma clearly cared more about Saihara.

"No! You're so stupid! I didn't even want _you_ to kill Kaede in the first place! Someone else should have done it! I wanted her dead not so I could have Saihara, but you! _I've always only wanted you!_ You’re so dense!"

Amami's heart started to feel heavy—heavier. Ouma was always a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode; why hadn't Amami noticed this before? 

Ouma just didn’t want Amami fooling around with some girl.

He wanted Amami to be his servant and nothing but it. Amami was just another pawn in Ouma’s great big game of a chess, and he was happy to just be playing. The chains of servitude had numbed Amami’s senses so much that he couldn’t find it in himself to care anymore.

"But... why did you have to kill her?" Amami asked. 

"That girl was in love with you and you were in love with her, and I _couldn’t fucking stand it_. Because I was jealous and mad and stupid! I'm so selfish! I'm so _fucking selfish_! So, actually, just… leave! Leave me to be captured and die—I sure as hell deserve it!" 

Amami gulped down a bubble of suffocating air. His ears were ringing. Amami leaned in and placed a fragile kiss to the young ruler's forehead, leaving as quick as it had come, in fear that he would rip the delicate milky skin apart with one touch.

He pulled away, meeting Ouma's eyes—a mix of exasperation, confusion, and hurt mixed in them. Ouma placed a hand to where Amami's lips had been against his forehead, mouth hanging open as he watched Amami turn on his heel without a second thought. 

A hand grabbed Amami's wrist which was dangling at his side, and he quickly turned to see Ouma, nose crinkled and lips twitching. 

"After everything we've been through… you're just gonna leave me with that?! Do you even feel that way towards me? Stop pretending to like me to make me feel better!" Ouma poked a finger to Amami's chest with one hand, his grip tightening around Amami's wrist. "Unacceptable!" Ouma's usually cheerful voice turned into something much different, showing Ouma's true colors and reminding Amami that this was why he was the prince. His cry echoed throughout the room, ringing off the walls and high ceilings. Amami felt like he was a mere twig to the flame that was Ouma Kokichi, and maybe he didn't mind being consumed if it meant he could be part of a magnificent fire. 

"You're so lame! Ugly, stupid... If you’re going to play with my feelings—”

“Feelings?” Amami whispered. 

“—Then I… I demand you k-kiss me at once...! Break my heart! Then and only then can you leave me here!" Ouma shut his eyes tight and sucked his lips in, almost as if he was waiting for a slap. His face was a mirror of regret. 

Amami felt light. Featherlight. All the pieces were clicking into place and Amami wonders just _why_ he had been so oblivious to so much. They both loved each other, but they kept misunderstanding.

Ouma was like water—something that could give life and take it away just as easily. Something that was fun and exciting, but also ruthless and dangerous. Being consumed by a fire, which will beat you up and render you useless, is nothing like being consumed by an ocean, which carries you along for all eternity. 

Amami wouldn't mind being with Ouma for all eternity, so he swims. 

With a low chuckle and a clear mind, he said, "As you wish, my prince." 

Amami didn't hesitate to kiss Ouma again. And again. And again. He kissed Ouma for every year they had been apart, for every year they had been together. He kissed Ouma's nose and his cheeks and his lips and anywhere his mouth could reach. He kissed Ouma like it was his first second alive, and like it was his last. 

Amami pulled away, much to his distaste, and gently laid his forehead against Ouma's. 

"So I'm in love with you." Amami spoke softly, more to himself than to Ouma. 

"Really? I couldn't tell." Ouma grinned at Amami, which earned him a tiny smack on the back of his head. "Now isn't the best time for jokes..." Amami mumbled. 

Ouma's eyes grew dark and hazy as his gaze fixated on the polished floors and luxurious carpet below them. "Oh. Right..." He spoke with delicacy, and Amami felt like he was listening to someone read from a script once more. He never enjoyed the scripted Ouma as much as he enjoyed the real one. 

"This is bad. I... I love you, and I'm in love with you, and... this is bad. Rantarou, t-this is really—” Ouma didn't try and stop the tears from gushing from his eyes, like a dam just broke behind his violet irises. He wrapped himself around Amami, nails digging into the back of his shirt as he cried into his chest.

"We can... We can run away together! We- we can just… Oh _God_." Ouma sniffled, curling in on himself a bit more. Amami was glad he got to see this side of Ouma, a side where he doesn't always have to maintain his princely aura. It made him remember the child he once knew, the one he spent days and nights playing with and talking about whatever nonsense popped into their head. Then again, he wasn't very happy about seeing him upset like this...

"My prince—"

"Stop with the 'my prince' shit! Just call me Kokichi for god's sake! We've known each other for our whole lives! I don't—I just want you to see me as an equal already! I’m not higher than you anymore! _It’s all over!_ " Ouma clenched his hands into fists and tried to wipe at his eyes as he pulled away from Amami. 

Amami mapped his thumb across Ouma's cheek, wiping away the tears that just didn't seem to stop, clinging to Ouma's lashes for dear life.

"Kokichi..." Saying that name brought back memories, long forgotten memories. He called Ouma by his first name when they were younger, so why not now? What had changed between them? 

"Kokichi, if we run away the people will come after us. We'll be on the run forever. That isn't- That's just not freedom."

"Freedom isn't living without you either!" Ouma yelled, voice hoarse, "Don't you see, Rantarou? I'm in love with you! _Just how dense can you be?!?_ We have to stick together, because we love each other! I don't wanna be away from you any...more." Ouma's breathing became shallow and ragged. 

Amami’s head hurt. His legs hurt. His heart hurt. He was _so goddamn tired_ of always running. His life moved so fast he thought it would slip through his fingers like sand.

“ _Let’s run away together, Rantarou._ ”

Amami couldn’t find it in himself to decline that time.

\---

The castle was empty except for Amami. Ouma waited outside, holding a human skull and a note that said, “I resign as ruler.” He hoped it would be enough to fool the civilians, or at least keep them occupied, even for a little while. Spider webs of gasoline on the floor tied together all the rooms in the castle. Amami held the candle that would end it all. Burn the castle to flames and fake Ouma’s death. Ouma said it was only right Amami set the castle aflame, since he loved this place more than anyone else and should be the final one to say goodbye. 

That logic didn’t make sense to Amami, but nothing did anymore.

Amami carefully lowered the candle to the ground, some of the wax spilling over the edge of the gilded tray it sat on. This is it. They’ve reached a dead end in this complex maze, and there’s only one way out: to turn around and leave it behind.

The candle sat next to a puddle of gasoline, and with a kick of Amami’s foot the candle tipped over and the puddle roared in flame. Amami wasted no time getting out of that place, running as fast as his feet could take him. The crackling of wood burning was everywhere in the castle. Amami reached the main door, throwing it open and wincing at the flames that licked his back, trying to engulf him inside them. The door caught fire, and the window frames began to buckle, sending out glass shards everywhere like bullets. Crashes could be heard from within. Silver and gold melted.

Ouma looked _mortified_ , and he jumped at the sight of Amami walking towards him, eyes dark. The windows of the castle spouted flames and ember, and Amami knew he and Ouma were thinking the same thing: _There is nothing left_.

“You’re safe… _thank God_ you’re safe.” Ouma’s hands reached to touch Amami, to have some kind of contact just to make sure Amami wouldn’t just burn into ash like everything else. Amami cupped Ouma’s face, feeling the soft skin that lay beneath his fingertips. His breath hitched as he took in a large breath. Ouma’s little hands snaked around Amami’s wrists and felt his skyrocketing pulse.

"I’m okay. We’re okay. Let’s go. _Let’s go_ ,” Amami whispered. Neither of them made any effort to move. They held onto each other so tightly, as if one of them would happen to let go let go they'd surely lose each other forever. Ouma removed Amami’s hands from his face and wrapped his arms around Amami’s back, moving his face close to the green-eyed boy’s chest and breathing in the scent of him. Ouma stalled for a second before looking up at Amami and inclining his head as a signal to _just get on with it already_.

They ran out of the city together, weaving in and out of trees, running through creeks, and getting up immediately after they fell. Amami had cuts all over his hands and the back of his suit vest was charred, but Ouma’s knees were scraped up and his face was covered in drying tears.

They ran through the night, their only light source being the stars and the moon.

They would make it through this. 

\---

Amami grimaced at the bright morning light coming through the window, rolling over on the mattress to obscure his face from the light and almost shoving Ouma off of it. Ouma slapped him on his forearm, huffing out a breath.

“You’ve no right to do that. _You’re_ the one who woke me up at seven in the morning, every morning for _the past year. _” Another slap to the forearm.__

__Amami chuckled, turning his face to look at Ouma, who was reading a faded book. “I can’t catch a break, can I?”_ _

__Ouma huffed out another breath. “You cannot. Go make breakfast.” Amami placed a kiss to to Ouma's temple, heaved himself out of their shared bed and walked towards the fireplace. He had caught some fish in the lake the other day, which isn’t your orthodox breakfast choice, but it would suffice until they had enough money to actually buy things. (Maybe if they were running away for other reasons, they would consider robbing a market or weapon shop, but they both wanted to start from scratch and get a life that wasn’t achieved through evil means.)_ _

__After their escape nearly a month ago, the two boys stumbled upon an abandoned cottage somewhere deep within the woods, a place most likely abandoned due to how hard it was to find with it being in a maze of trees. It was close to a village, but not too close, and you’d really have to squint if you wanted to see it._ _

__It was the perfect place for them to hide out._ _

__The cottage was a relatively nice place to live in. At first there were bugs and all sorts of things living in it, but Amami managed to clean it up as much as possible. The cottage came equipped with a small fireplace, a few old books about tales of loyal knights and princes and things that sounded _all too familiar_ to the both of them, and a bug-infested bed that had taken five days to fully clean out before the two of them deemed it safe to sleep on._ _

__They were okay like this. They might not be able to have a fresh start with money and luxury, but it was still a start. They felt at home, and it feels damn good to feel at home._ _

__Ouma liked to joke about how one day, when he’s rich enough, he’ll build his own kingdom from the ground up and make sure it’s the best place possible. As impractical as the dream is, Amami didn’t discourage him. Throwing a kingdom into the hands of a child was just a bad idea. If Ouma tried again, Amami is sure he’d do better. Until that day, the two of them would enjoy soft smiles and even softer eyes together._ _

__Some days are rough. Sometimes Ouma won’t stop apologizing for what happened back in his kingdom. Amami has forgiven him by now, but Ouma is still shaken up by it. He hurt _so many people_ all because he was jealous and jumped to conclusions. Ouma wonders why Amami doesn’t just walk out on him; he’s a complete wreck._ _

__Amami wants to help Ouma get better, so he doesn’t walk out on him. Besides, he loves him way too much to do something like that. Amami is well aware of what he signed up for._ _

__As Amami is sitting on the foot of their bed, eating fish and listening to Ouma whine about how _oh my god Rantarou this is the worst thing I’ve ever had you are never cooking again_ , Amami really feels like _this_ is where he’s meant to be._ _

**Author's Note:**

> i've been working on this for about 6 months, so i'd really appreciate it if you left a comment and kudos!!
> 
> thank you for reading!
> 
> also!! the title is from 1/4th by Kaito lmao


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